oh, the holidays

So... Christmas dinner erupted into an argument about my priorities after my mother insisted that I go to church tomorrow in lieu of going tubing on the mountain with my best childhood friend. Apparently, I am not in my late twenties but rather my late teens.

Like, I get it. I get her religiosity and her committment and her passion. But my priorities are not her priorities and I am well passed the ripe old age at which she should have stopped imposing same on me. Most particularly when I went to church last night! ...and really, are we going to argue about this at the Christmas table? garrrr...these are the things that push me away. I had a striking realization sitting in my childhood church last night....that it had taken a frighteningly long time to get to where i am...a place that i am not devoured by guilt for not holding the same religion as my mother, but still understand and accept its precepts and in a general sense try to live my life in a certain moraled fashion. On the other hand, it took a lot of years of guilt and struggle and tears and fear to get out from under a strict religious upbringing.

it is interesting and perplexing how they (she) have accepted my relationship with my now-fiance...there is not a hint of religion in his life accept acceptance and understanding of my own confusion. this is the first relationship of my life in which my mother has not tirelessly judged and questioned the male's commitment to her (or similar) beliefs. Maybe it is because he is just so simply and genuinely good in a way that no amount of religious commitment can create. I mean, heck, my heart is darker and more conniving times 10 than he could ever hope to be and he was not raised on a 2x per Sunday and once on Wednesday church routine.

In any case, it sure felt good to vent to him and to you and to write again. sigh.